


Doing The Lord's Work

by Glass_Oceans



Series: The Ficlet Collection [93]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 02:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15109895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glass_Oceans/pseuds/Glass_Oceans
Summary: Kylux & 5. “Just because I kill people doesn’t mean I am the bad guy, it means I found a calling.” Please?





	Doing The Lord's Work

**Author's Note:**

> Content notes: serial killer kylo, Doctor Hux, Modern AU, Mention of torture, Knives, murder budies

The detective removed his sleeve from his nose as he and his partner exited the crime scene.

“Ugh,” Finn said, turning his face away from the door, “this guy seriously has something wrong with him.”

Poe glanced over at him, moving the stick in his mouth from one corner to the other.

“You didn’t note anything about his choice of victim?” he asked.

Finn’s gaze hardened. “Murder is murder, there’s nothing good about what he’s doing here.”

Poe smiled wryly at his young partner’s zeal, before his attention was caught by a figure stepping under the police tape and towards the door they were flanking.

“Well, well, well,” muttered Poe as the man came closer, causing Finn to roll his eyes. “If it isn’t my favourite daytime snack.”

“How’s it going Gingerbread?” he declared as Hux drew to a stop in front of them.

“Detective Damaeron, Detective Jakku,” he said with a brief nod to them both. He sighed when Poe gave no sign of moving out of his way, hauling his equipment bag back onto his shoulder where the slippery surface of the tyvek suit threatened to send it crashing straight down to the ground again.

“Detectives, if I may?” Hux asked, making to step forward only for Poe to step into his path.

“What’s the hurry, Gingerbread?” Poe asked, reaching up to remove the lollipop from his mouth, tongue smearing sticky spit across his lips. “Don’t you have time to talk to an admirer?”

Hux looked down at Poe with all the disdain he could muster.

“Not while you’re still engaging in that juvenile habit, and preventing me from doing my work.”

“You could let me help.”

Hux shuddered. “God no. I don’t need you messing up my samples again.”

Poe barked a laugh as he stepped out of Hux’s way, allowing him to finally step forward and pull open the door. He stopped there, setting down his back to pull on shoe covers and gloves, safety glasses and mask, listening gratefully to the sound of the detectives retreating footsteps, then moved into the crime scene.

Hux looked out dispassionately on the scene that had so disturbed Finn. The unfurnished office of an abandoned warehouse, the killer had dragged three people to this location and had set about killing them slowly and painfully. The bodies had been arranged by the killer in their current setting, moved from where he had tortured them, sprays of blood painted across the walls.

Removing tweezers and plastic bags from his kit, Hux set about examining the bodies, searching the most likely places and removing trace evidence based on their killer’s previous work. The department was reluctant to call him a serial killer yet, knowing how the media would be worked into a frenzy by the term, but Hux had studied the killer’s victims to know his style. Evidence bagged, he stood, shoving the bags into his pocket, and stepped out into the main warehouse itself.

The area was quiet now, the initial hubbub of sirens quieted with the warehouse still tapped off, and only a couple of patrol’s left to maintain the area. Hux wouldn’t be disturbed now unless he asked for help, so he stood in the middle of the warehouse’s bare concrete floor and began to remove his safety equipment. The glasses and mask hit the floor first, followed swiftly by the blue nitrile gloves. He pulled the hood of the tyvek gown off his head, shaking loose his hair as he began to undo the zip before he finally heard the tread of another set of footprints.

“You took your time,” he said, focusing on teasing the elasticated ends over his shoes.

No answer came, so Hux simply balled up his equipment, setting it to one side to collect on his way out.

“The police have noticed your pattern, you know.”

Kylo, as he liked to call himself, stepped out of the shadows at that, pulling down his hoodie to reveal dark eyes staring at Hux from beneath a mess of dark hair.

“They deserved it.”

“Did they,” Hux replied dryly.

Kylo crossed the space between them in a heartbeat, grabbing Hux by the front of his jacket and pushing him against one of the rusted support beams, a knife to his throat.

“Just because I kill people doesn’t mean I am the bad guy,” Kylo muttered, his lips almost touching Hux’s, “it means I found a calling.”

Hux raised an eyebrow, his expression unusually calm for the cold metal that was pressed against his throat. Kylo felt Hux shift slightly; his own eyes growing wide as he felt the answering kiss of metal against his inner thigh.

“I don’t dispute it,” Hux replied, withdrawing his knife back into his sleeve as Kylo stepped back from him. “But you’re getting sloppy.”

Kylo folded his knife and shoved it back into his pocket, expression dark. Hux reached into his pocket and withdrew the evidence he had taken from the bodies, shoving it into Kylo’s hand.

“It was thanks to the detective’s mistake that you didn’t get caught last time,” he said, adjusting his shirt sleeves and drawing Kylo’s mind to wondering what other weapons he had concealed. “But I won’t always be the first on the scene, and I may not always be able to help you.”

“Why do you want to help me at all?” Kylo asked as he put the bags away.

Hux nodded back towards the room that help Kylo’s handiwork. “Your execution is rough, but not your principals. Those murders got what they deserved. But I’d rather you not get caught so you can keep doing it.”

“And what’s in it for you?”

Hux smiled bright and sharper than the knife that had made Kylo’s prick twitch with interest.

“More than you can possibly imagine.”


End file.
